Although Nice is now a French town, the humbler classes remain essentially Italian of the old Savoy type. The dresses of the women are picturesque, and their favourite mode of carrying things is to poise them on the top of the head. The peculiar costumes of the district are well represented in the wooden mosaics which form a remarkable local manufacture. I have never returned home from Nice without purchasing specimens of these beautiful _mosaïques en bois_, at the shop of the brothers Mignon, in the Rue Paradis. On the last occasion, I received an interesting account of how they were prepared. The pictorial effects are, it is said, wholly a result of the varying tints of different kinds of wood grown in the neighbourhood; all being ingeniously shaped and put together without any aid from artificial colouring. As the intrinsic value of the small pieces of wood employed must be insignificant—a pennyworth probably being wrought up in a mosaic which will sell for a couple of napoleons—we have here a striking instance of how national wealth may be increased by exerting artistic ability on materials which are, of themselves, worthless. Considering its extent, its numerous attractions, its choice of society, and its abundance of hotels, _pensions_, and villas and floors to be let for hire, Nice, as a place of agreeable resort, has a prodigious advantage over Mentone, which is in a comparatively primitive condition, with much to be done to bring it up to the Nicean finish. To all its recommendable qualities, Nice has further added a supply of pure water led on in pipes from the hilly ground behind; and this is a thing of first importance. If the public authorities would be but a little more liberal in their supply of scavengers to scrape and sweep the streets and by-ways, and to prevent the accumulation of nauseous rubbish on the shore side of the Promenade, they would merit a tribute of thanks from every one who makes a sojourn in the town. Granting all that can be said in admiration of the Queen of the Mediterranean, the question remains as to its availableness in a matter where health is so intimately concerned. In its very imposing size and stylish way of living there is, I fear, something objectionable. Health-seekers ought not as a rule to care for balls, theatrical representations, or the lavish exhibition of finery. What they generally want is the re-invigoration of an enfeebled constitution, through simple and natural agencies. Wherefore, the sea-side, the rural hamlet, or any other place where, by abandoning artificialities, Nature has fair-play to strengthen the animal system, is what is sought after. On this account, as well as on its higher claims in point of shelter and climate, there is no room to hesitate. Pleasure-seekers, or those to whom a town-life is indispensable, will stop at Nice; the less sophisticated will go twenty miles farther, and, with all its deficiencies, bask in the very garden of the Riviera.